I finally finished reading Les Miserables. It has been quite a journey which began several years ago when I listened to it on tape. But I have to admit that I only heard about an eighth of it because as soon as it would go into one of Hugo's detours from the main plot, my mind would wander. When Tiffany raved about it being one of her all-time favorites, I decided I had better read it. I started about four years ago and got about half way through it. Then I got derailed by other books and selling our house, moving, and remodel project. I finally got back to it about a year and a half ago by...brace yourself...keeping it in the bathroom. That's right, I read the last half a paragraph at a time while using the bathroom. I think Victor would be insulted. But at least I finished it, which testifies to the power of eating an elephant a bite at a time.
I wish I could say I loved it, but I didn't. I do love the characters, especially Jean Valjean. I'm always enthralled with multifaceted characters who are complicated, not all good and all bad. Jean Valjean, however, comes close to being all good, but not without paying a terrible price. My favorite parts are when he struggles mightily to overcome temptation and finally does the right thing, time and time again. I love the lofty values that are depicted, the marvelous example of true integrity. I also love, love, love the plot. It is just such a classic tale of love, sacrifice and honor with wonderful foils of corruption and evil.
Having said all that, why, you ask, don't I adore the book? Because I am lazy, for one thing. All those rants by Hugo were exhausting to me. And as the king of Austria said to Mozart, "Aren't there too many notes?", I want to say to Hugo, "Aren't there too many words?" He took twenty pages to tell something that could have been covered nicely in one (sometimes. I have to admit there were times when his explosion of words was breathtakingly wonderful). Besides being lazy, I'm also lacking in enough education to understand all the French words, the historical facts, figures, places and events. I felt like I was in a foreign country trying to understand a foreign language half the time.
As for the heart-wrenching conclusion of the book, the one that had Oliver DeMille and Tiff in tears...well, surprise, surprise...(we are talking about me, ya know)...nope, not even a lump in the throat. Actually, I found it to be somewhat melodramatic. I am always a little bugged when someone tries to play my emotions like that (yes, I do have them).
Still, all kidding aside, it is a marvelous book and I will surely recommend it to others, but I will encourage them to read a condensed version. Sorry Victor...and Tiff.
I wish I could say I loved it, but I didn't. I do love the characters, especially Jean Valjean. I'm always enthralled with multifaceted characters who are complicated, not all good and all bad. Jean Valjean, however, comes close to being all good, but not without paying a terrible price. My favorite parts are when he struggles mightily to overcome temptation and finally does the right thing, time and time again. I love the lofty values that are depicted, the marvelous example of true integrity. I also love, love, love the plot. It is just such a classic tale of love, sacrifice and honor with wonderful foils of corruption and evil.
Having said all that, why, you ask, don't I adore the book? Because I am lazy, for one thing. All those rants by Hugo were exhausting to me. And as the king of Austria said to Mozart, "Aren't there too many notes?", I want to say to Hugo, "Aren't there too many words?" He took twenty pages to tell something that could have been covered nicely in one (sometimes. I have to admit there were times when his explosion of words was breathtakingly wonderful). Besides being lazy, I'm also lacking in enough education to understand all the French words, the historical facts, figures, places and events. I felt like I was in a foreign country trying to understand a foreign language half the time.
As for the heart-wrenching conclusion of the book, the one that had Oliver DeMille and Tiff in tears...well, surprise, surprise...(we are talking about me, ya know)...nope, not even a lump in the throat. Actually, I found it to be somewhat melodramatic. I am always a little bugged when someone tries to play my emotions like that (yes, I do have them).
Still, all kidding aside, it is a marvelous book and I will surely recommend it to others, but I will encourage them to read a condensed version. Sorry Victor...and Tiff.
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